


Something Nice Happens to Felix Gaeta

by Thistlerose



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it's about damn time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Nice Happens to Felix Gaeta

**Author's Note:**

> Set after "Sine Qua Non." Obviously, this deviates from canon. If only things had happened this way, it would have spared a lot of people - especially Gaeta - a world of hurt.

Felix Gaeta lay in bed, drifting through hours that were sometimes dream-filled. He left the door unlocked so he wouldn't have to rise for visitors, few and far between though they were. Actually, there were only two: Doc Cottle with his medication, and Dee when she was off-duty and feeling lonely.

Gaeta welcomed the doctor's drugs, but Dee made him uneasy because she so clearly wanted to _help_ , and there was nothing she could do. Despite the pain, both phantom and real, he was far too polite to say so. He pretended to listen when she read to him or shared the latest scuttlebutt, and he managed to smile wanly when she stroked his hair in a sisterly manner.

Sisterly, he thought. At least, it had better be. She knew he preferred men. He'd never told her – he preferred to keep his private life private – but that one glorious afternoon on New Caprica, when everyone but Roslin and Adama seemed happy and things had yet to get completely frakked up, Dee had been running around looking for Lee and she'd bumped into Gaeta, backed eagerly against a wall by…

He didn't want to think about it. Not about that day, not about any day when he had two legs. He wanted to _sleep._ And if he couldn't sleep, then he wanted to sing. _Alone._

But he couldn't make himself tell her that.

 

He should probably, he reflected later, have been a little more anxious when President Roslin and Gaius Baltar went missing and when Admiral Adama stepped down, and a little less relieved when Tigh told Dee that he wanted her with him on the bridge for as long as she could physically stand it.

"'And if we have to,'" said Dee, in a fair imitation of Tigh's growl, "'we'll prop you up. Now get to work.'" She squeezed Gaeta's fingers. "Guess I'd better get to work. I'll be back. You hang in there."

Gaeta nodded, and as soon as the door had closed behind her, he opened his mouth. The first song that came to him was a folk song his mother had liked to sing while she worked in the vegetable garden. Something about how certain vegetables – like squash and cucumbers – were really fruit. A nonsensical song, vaguely in tribute to the goddess Demeter. He remembered finding it funny, but now he couldn't remember all the lyrics, so he had to make some of them up.

After the vegetable song, he remembered one he'd been taught in grade school as a way of remembering the presidents' names. He started to sing it, then realized he only knew the refrain. He frowned as he tried to recall the names, but before Roslin stretched a vast blank. "Frak," he muttered, his fingers curling against the blanket. "Frak, _frak._ "

On the other side of the door, something gave a high, piteous whine.

Gaeta froze.

It could have been a door swinging on rusted hinges, which would have made no sense. Or it could have been a dog, which made _some_ sense, but not very much. When the Cylons attacked the Colonies, plenty of people had tried to save their pets, but there just hadn't been room. A few, like Baltar's lawyer's cat and that dog on New Caprica had been snuck aboard, but…

Gaeta lay very still, waiting.

He heard the whine again, this time accompanied by frantic scratching at the door.

 _Go away,_ thought Gaeta. _Please._

The door slid open and the dog bounded in, all flopping ears and lolling pink tongue. Gaeta raised his hands, but the dog either misinterpreted the gesture as an invitation, or simply didn't care. It bounced onto the bed, flopped down beside Gaeta, and started licking his face.

There was really nothing Gaeta could do but scratch the dog's ears and try to avoid having his lips swiped by that tongue. The dog squealed happily and thumped the bed with its tail.

"So this is where 'e was trying to get," said a familiar voice from the doorway. "You know, a lesser man than myself might say something about the workings of karma. I'm better than that, but not _much_ better, so I'll say this: if you can't convict a man by telling the truth, a lie isn't worth your soul. Also, you might want to consider locking your door. Baltar's folk aren't too 'appy with your perjury and _you_ might not care much about yourself right now, but don't think they won't come after your pets. Now, I don't usually give free advice, so do me a favor and take this dog off my 'ands. 'E likes you. Seems to know you, I'd say. 'Is name's Jake. 'E's yours."

Romo Lampkin had gone by the time Gaeta managed to shove Jake off him, but he'd left a leash coiled on the floor.

*

After her shift, Dee only wanted to flop onto her bed and sleep until they found Earth. But she had a dim recollection of telling Gaeta she'd come by, and she hated the thought of him lying helpless, not knowing where they were headed, or if they had any sort of plan. So she grabbed some food from the mess and went to his quarters.

His door was locked.

Terrible images crowded in Dee's tired mind: Gaeta slumped on the floor, having horded enough drugs to overdose; Gaeta with his wrists cut; Gaeta hanging from…something.

"Oh gods, no. Please." She pounded on the door with one fist. "Gaeta! Can you hear me? It's Dee! Please open up."

On the other side of the door, a dog began to bark excitedly.

Dee fell back a pace.

The door slid open and Gaeta – slouching in the wheelchair Doc Cottle had found for him, looking pale and worn, but very much alive – said, "You're so lucky I wasn't in bed with anyone."

Dee threw her arms around him, taking care to avoid his legs, but mashing the food. The dog bounced in circles around them.

"Either I'm hallucinating from fatigue," said Dee, "or you found a roommate. A hairy one."

"This is Jake," said Gaeta. "And it's more like he got me. Poor boy."

"How so?"

"Well, a dog is a big responsibility. They need to be fed, walked…"

"I guess," said Dee, letting go of him finally, "you're just going to have to get better."

"I guess so," said Gaeta softly, his gaze leaving her face so it could follow the dog. "I'll need help."

"Good thing Commander Tigh taught me all about propping people up. He seems like a nice dog," Dee said. "I'm glad you have a friend."

He looked up at her, and for the first time in a long time, his smile was genuine; the light of it reached his eyes. "I have two," he said.

6/1/2008

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Man's Best Friend (The Dog Days Are Here Again Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/192338) by [lls_mutant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant)




End file.
